


nymphaea

by paplexa



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: (if you squint that is), 20's au??, Alternate Universe - After College/University, Dancer Hyunggu, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, Loss of Innocence, Love Triangles, M/M, Metaphors, Yuki - Freeform, setting was inspired by great gatsby, wooki (kind of), wooyuki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25381273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paplexa/pseuds/paplexa
Summary: "nymphaea" — "water lily", a symbol of purity, enlightenment, and rebirthJung Wooseok found himself here, in a glass pavilion full of wide-eyed dancers, side-by-side with an quiet, old friend from university -- never did he think he'd play a part in such a "tragic", "sinful" love story.
Relationships: Adachi Yuto/Kang Hyunggu | Kino
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	nymphaea

**Author's Note:**

> hihi ! i've just decided that i'd love to share my writing on more platforms, one being here on ao3 ! i'm planning on posting favorite works of mine here, so i hope you enjoy my pieces!  
> (also, most of my stories have metaphors/literary nerd type stuff, so if you're into that, i'm ur uni!)

**Lights flare like candles** in the glitzy cityscape; flickering dots beneath sparkles of gold and silver nearly burn Wooseok's eyes as he pulls his car into an unfamiliar driveway. 

Days before, Wooseok had received an invitation from a friend he attended university with. Adachi Yuto is his name, though everyone calls him "Adachi". He sent Wooseok something short and formal, along the lines of: " _I live in this estate in the city now, you should visit. Much has changed since University, I presume_ ," and Wooseok has taken up the offer. 

He stands now in front of a rather large estate, the door black as midnight and white windows glossy with warm moonlight. _It's a fairly pretty sight to look at_ , Wooseok thinks to himself as he awaits Adachi's appearance. It isn't long until he's greeted by Adachi and quickly ushered inside, where the two sit atop a leather couch stood beneath a dim, dangling light.

They talk for a little while. Wooseok learns that Adachi's been fairly busy while Wooseok explains that he's been living a relatively relaxed life in a suburbia hours away. 

"Do you miss college at all?" Wooseok asks, eying Adachi curiously. Adachi had done well during their time at university, being an exceptional student and overall polite guy.

"Ah, not too much..." Adachi replies with a boyish grin. "I almost felt like I was missing something there... Now that I'm in the city, things are more refreshing. I feel like I'm nearly grasping my own fulfillment."

"Huh, I see," Wooseok remarks, "that's bound to be exciting."

"Yes," Adachi replies. "Surely exciting...maybe frightening too."

Wooseok nods slowly, glancing at Adachi's trembling hands. The slender fingers tap against his thigh frantically, anxious eyes darting up to a large clock that lies across the room. Wooseok is prepared to question Adachi's uneasiness until the man suddenly gets out of his seat.

"It's nine," Adachi says. "We should get going."

"Where are we off to?" questions Wooseok, fetching his hat from the coat rack.

"The Glass House," says Adachi, pulling on a thick black coat before he swings open the front door. 

_The Glass House._ It's apparently a pavilion, set in the center of town and as bustling and picturesque as one would imagine a glass pavilion could be. Adachi explains quickly that there's a party that takes place there monthly, set with performances and liquor and extravagance that sounds exhilarating to Wooseok. Adachi replies that it isn't all that impressive. 

"I still don't enjoy parties," Adachi murmurs as the two exit the car.

"Then why are we attending one?" Wooseok laughs aloud, a spring in his step as he follows Adachi up the stairs to the building.

"Uh..." Adachi stutters, suddenly panicked. He's silent for a second, frantically gathering his thoughts into a decent answer. "I thought you would enjoy it."

"Oh," Wooseok replies, "Well, thank you." Adachi just nods, something obviously on his mind. After Adachi's rash response, Wooseok feels farther away from him somehow. 

As soon as the men push open the pavilion's doors, there seems to be a burst of lavish light and noise. Wooseok is greeted with the pungent fragrance of floral perfume and pricey liquor that stung his eyes; his ears ring with the noisy chatter floating around the room, a haughty laugh sounding from time to time. In the midst of it all, there is a large stage decked with small, leaping dancers. Fantastical arrangements of limbs and silken costumes fly across the stage gracefully, all in an aesthetic formation that emits a satisfied hum from Adachi as he watches it. Wooseok looks at him curiously.

"I like dancers," Adachi says, elated. He's looking up at the performers with staggering interest, as if he admired the performative twirling and acting of dancers more than anything else in the world. Wooseok is almost surprised by it. It is all terribly dramatic, yet Adachi—whom Wooseok once deemed as much more practical—seems immersed in the art.

Wooseok nudges the elder man's shoulder, "If dancers are your type, I could set you up with my cousin. She's a ballerina—"

"Yes, that sounds alright," Adachi interrupts breathlessly, eyes still wide and ecstatic. He is unmoving, still engrossed in the fantastic performance in front of him. Wooseok bites his lip, saying nothing, and focuses his attention onto the dazzling stage again. He notices that the dancers all appear the same, all frolicking around the stage in flashy grey silk and sporting clip-on roses throughout their hair. There is a male dancer in the center, clad in sparkling white silk as he dances. A set of flowers is also set on his head.

Wooseok is overcome with insecurity as he watches those flower buds. It seems as if the clips are struggling to clutch onto the thin strands of glossy hair on each dancer, and with every torturous spin of their body that grip loosens. Wooseok isn't quite sure why it's bothering him so much; he nearly holds out his hands out of anxiety that a flower would fly and he'd have to catch it.

As the song comes to a close, Adachi's eyes are shining with admiration while Wooseok is relieved; he exhales deeply, as if he'd been holding a breath during the whole performance. "Talented," says Wooseok and Adachi anxiously agrees. The two begin to move again, this time nearing the bar. 

"It's surprising..." Wooseok begins. Adachi cocks an eyebrow in curiosity as he sips on his drink. "...I never expected you to like dance."

Adachi hums, silent for a moment. "There's some things you just learn to admire. It's good to keep an open mind."

Wooseok opens his mouth to add on, before he's interrupted by Adachi's sudden departure from the bar. He's seen something—or, someone—it seems, and now he's enthused.

"There he is," Adachi murmurs to himself, amusement in his tone. 

Wooseok looks around, perplexed. "There who is?"

"Uh—"

"Yuto!" a delicate voice calls, "Hello." Wooseok spins around to see the male dancer who had been performing just moments before. Adachi's face lights up, mouth lifting into a prideful smile. He places his hand onto the dancer's shoulder and gestures to Wooseok.

"Hyunggu, this is my friend Jung Wooseok," Adachi introduces him with a slight nod of his head. 

"Hello, I'm Hyunggu, pleasure to meet you," says the young dancer, beaming as his graceful hands grasp Wooseok's large ones. The dancer is rather charming up close, dressed in a woolen white coat that draped over his flashy costume. The white blossoms were still stuck to his hair, complimenting his pale skin and raven hair well. "How do you know Yuto?" he asks, his voice rather airy.

"Ah...well we met at University...I'm visiting for a little while."

"That's wonderful," Hyunggu says pleasantly again, looking up at Adachi with a pretty smile. "Is Mr. Jung staying with you?"

"Kind of," Adachi laughs sheepishly, "he's in the guest house. You should visit."

"I should," says Hyunggu surely, still beaming. "Perhaps tomorrow?"

"Yes, of course, come anytime," Yuto affirms, his dark eyes crinkled into a smile as he looks down at Hyunggu.

"It's pretty," says Wooseok, gesturing to Hyunggu's head. Quizzical, the dancer's eyes widen. "The flowers," Wooseok clarifies.

"Oh, the flowers!" Hyunggu laughs gently, "it's like a gimmick. It's my thing."

"You're Flower Boy," Adachi says teasingly.

"Right, the public calls me Flower Boy," Hyunggu explains with another soft laugh. Wooseok grins while Adachi smiles uneasily.

"You never really take the flowers off, huh?" Adachi says warily, his voice meant to be impish but faltering slightly. Hyunggu replies that he doesn't and Yuto just hums, in thought.

"It's alright, it suits you well," Wooseok remarks as he faces Hyunggu, staring at the white blossoms.

"Thank you," Hyunggu replies graciously, his smile small this time. 

* * *

Hyunggu arrives at the house earlier than Wooseok expects; as he departs his bedroom he hears lively chatter stirring down the hallway. At first he doesn't recognize it: the laughter, sharp and loud as a pitchy record. Wooseok notices the white woolen coat perched on the rack and he then realizes the guffaws are Hyunggu's and Yuto's. 

It's such a clear, blissful echo, with every second it brightens and becomes so much more brilliant, shattering the fragile, glass-like silences that Hyunggu is usually enclosed in. The happy shrieks soon dissolve into a serene hum of conversation, Yuto's gruff voice followed by the soft utterances of Hyunggu's, brightness still lingering in his tone. 

After several minutes Wooseok walks into the living room, uttering polite greetings to both Hyunggu and Adachi as he sits down. 

"Good morning Mr. Jung," Hyunggu says, face blossoming into a coy smile. His dark locks are still embroidered with flowers.

"Just call me Wooseok," he laughs aloud at the formality as he sits next to Hyunggu.

"I'll fetch you some tea," Adachi says to Wooseok, before turning to Hyunggu "do you want anything?"

"A coffee," Hyunggu says, staring up at Yuto with amused eyes. The man pats the dancer on the shoulder before replying that he'll get Hyunggu the one he always likes. "Dandy," Hyunggu replies, and Adachi smirks as he leaves. 

"Yuto's so dashing, isn't he?" Hyunggu sighs dreamily, leaning back on the couch. "He must have been popular at your University."

"He was a bore," Wooseok jokes, "no—well...he was more introverted. People knew his name, his face, and liked him enough, but Adachi didn't really think much of it. He still kept to himself."

"Did he have a girl?" Hyunggu asks carefully, his voice quieter.

Wooseok purses his lips. "Yes. Two. But neither lasted very long."

Hyunggu doesn't reply; he just sits up straighter as he looks out the sunlit window. "You never told me how you two met," Wooseok blurts out, in a hurry to revitalize the conversation.

"Oh! Well...Yuto's come to watch me dance many times," Hyunggu explains, nodding, "I began to notice him, it was nice seeing his face in the audience. A few months ago...he approached me one night after the performance. After that, we've been best of friends." He finishes with a cheery smile, glancing at Yuto who is now nearing the room, drinks in hand.

"Eager?" Adachi says playfully as he eyes Hyunggu's enthused expression. Hyunggu snorts, quick to dismiss his friend's word choice. Adachi hands the two their beverages before he sits down beside Hyunggu.

"What drink is this?" Wooseok asks, a sweet aroma lifting from the rose-colored liquid.

"Peaches," Adachi mumbles, "plums...tea...something like that—I bought it from a woman's shop in the plaza."

"Oh! Her!" Hyunggu exclaims, "I've gotten tea from her before...it's rather pleasant there."

"Yes...she’s pleasant too," Adachi mutters. "She's got a captivating presence, doesn't she?

Hyunggu's smile falters. "Y-yes. You should talk to her maybe. Invite her to the Glass House."

"I don't know..." Adachi chuckles, "what about you Wooseok? What do you think?"

Wooseok coughs awkwardly on impulse, formerly engrossed in the other men's brief conversation. "Uh...I don't know." His head feels heavy, weighed with accumulating thoughts as he observed the two. Something felt off; he isn't sure why. Adachi and Hyunggu appear so comfy together, yet there are faltering smiles and sad, longing eyes adorning the dancer's face. Adachi seems so impeccably happy, yet Hyunggu's joy is always accompanied by a twinge of wistfulness. 

It isn't long until Wooseok gets it. It’s inconspicuous, but still blatantly there: Hyunggu's admiration, his affectionate eyes, his attentiveness towards Adachi. Wooseok has realized that the dancer yearns: that his heart twirls and leaps for someone who is unaware. He keeps his silence now, his gaze sometimes meeting Hyunggu’s as the three converse. All he can think about is the trembling of Hyunggu’s eyes and heart, and he too feels a warm, intimate loneliness.

  
  


* * *

Days pass by quickly; it seems that Hyunggu’s presence is always prettily floating about, whether he’s twirling through hallways or engaging in pleasant conversations with Adachi or Wooseok. He’s like a child, as naive and innocent as they come. Wooseok finds himself enjoying that liveliness, and he befriends Hyunggu quickly. 

Hyunggu is easy to read, for he’s expressive and emotional and even when he’s quiet his eyes are full of so much feeling. Wooseok can feel the love radiating off of Hyunggu as he places his hand onto Adachi’s bicep, or when he calls “ _Yuto, Yuto!_ ” his voice loud and sharp.

He is infatuated with Adachi. Wooseok found it conspicuous yet so carefully concealed. Hyunggu seemed to be using the heteronormative ideals of their society to mask the emotions that lie beneath his compassionate words. Wooseok is more worldly than most people, however, and the thought of Hyunggu being attracted to another man isn’t too radical to him. Perhaps that was how he figured it out so easily.

Adachi and Hyunggu are almost opposites—Wooseok had realized through his observations—but they got along so well. Adachi is reserved, yet bold. One cannot decipher what he truly feels until he’s doing the action. Despite years of friendship, Wooseok cannot read Adachi; his delighted sighs of admiration as Hyunggu dances aren’t enough for Wooseok to gage the man’s true feelings. _Is it the dance he loves? Is it Hyunggu?_

Where Hyunggu is soft, Adachi is brash. _Sometimes_ Wooseok wonders, _If Hyunggu found someone who he was similar to, would he love them more? Or is he just attracted to someone he can learn from, someone who thrills him?_ Wooseok is lost in between two differing souls, entangled in a gorgeous, unspoken catastrophe of emotion that entices him for some odd reason. He’s peeking, observing a love story or an upcoming disaster. Wooseok is not certain which one it is yet, nor is he sure which one he wants it to be.

A month after Wooseok’s stay, Adachi leaves for a meeting in the city, leaving Wooseok and Hyunggu to themselves. 

“This is your second home, is it not?” Wooseok chuckles as the two converse on the balcony.

Hyunggu laughs gently, touching the pink blossom on his head for a moment. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Where do you live?”

“Away,” Hyunggu smiles, “A few blocks down from the Glass Pavilion. But I don’t like it there. It’s so dingy.”

Wooseok wrinkles his nose, “dingy?”

“Yes, it’s so… old and small...I like it much better here. It’s so colorful and lively and full of so much possibility…” Hyunggu’s voice falters, “and Yuto’s here.”

A thick, sullen silence fills the air. Wooseok glances at Hyunggu, whose eyes are glum and big.

“You love him,” Wooseok blurts out. 

Mortification is plastered onto the dancer’s face, rapidly his poise rotting into insecurity. Hyunggu avoids Wooseok’s eyes and stares blankly at the sky, the horizon merely a blur of devastating shades of sickly blues and pinks. The wispy clouds stretch out, engulfing the white moon in tufts of sad rosy color. He stifles a quiet whimper, closing his eyes as he’s reminded of his hopelessness. Wooseok’s words tantalize him, throwing him into a state of mute anxiety where on the inside, he screams bloody murder.

“What does it matter?” Hyunggu almost whispers, voice shrunk into a weak hum. He swallows dryly, miserable as ever as he stares into the sinking sunset. 

“I suppose it doesn’t,” Wooseok replies softly, after a little while.

“It doesn’t,” Hyunggu mutters. A few moments go by before Hyunggu glances at the tall man beside him. “I'm in misery. I’m...lovelorn. Yuto...he’ll...” he releases a shaky sigh, “h-he’ll be alright. He’ll have a wife one day...and a family...but I’m static here. I could never be married, I could never have a love that others do, or the ones in the movies, where the men love women so dearly and hold them so closely...” Hyunggu shuts his eyes, a tear falling against his pink cheek. “I’m so static. I’m a dancer yet I never move. I can’t move...the world won’t let me....”

“Hyunggu...” Wooseok says with sympathy.

“I wish I could get married,” Hyunggu whimpers, looking up into the rosy sky in attempts to clear the tears in his eyes. “I really wish I could...”

“Will you ever tell him?” Wooseok asks.

“No,” is the hasty reply.

“Hyunggu…Adachi adores you,” Wooseok says, “I promise, he does—“

“Don’t say that,” Hyunggu nearly laughs in bitter anguish, a sharp, shrill noise that pierces Wooseok’s heart. He’s so bitterly hopeless at an attempt for redamancy, disheartened by his failure at encountering a man who could return his feelings. Hyunggu murmurs now, “Don’t say that, please don’t...” He’s quiet, blinking slowly as fat droplets stream from his pleading eyes. He shakes his head no, biting his lips.

“...I’m sorry,” Wooseok says, sincerity in his brown eyes.

Hyunggu says nothing. He places his hand atop Wooseok’s, breathing shakily. He attempts to soothe himself with deep exhalations that only make him feel like he’s suffocating—breathless and moribund as his terrible respiring prolongs. A raw sob sounds, echoing through the balcony. “I feel like I can’t breathe,” Hyunggu mutters, shuddery exhalations leaving his pink lips. “I can’t…” he whimpers, falling into Wooseok’s chest in broken convulsions.

“Don’t cry,” Wooseok whispers gently into his raven hair, “darling, don’t cry...”

  
  


* * *

Wooseok and Hyunggu had grown close since then, a bond blossoming between them. His personality is more similar to Hyunggu’s so Wooseok feels that they understand each other, more so than Adachi could. He is not sure how Hyunggu feels about that, but Wooseok assumes he feels the same way.

_If Adachi can’t understand or love Hyunggu, what’s the point?_ Wooseok thinks to himself as he and Adachi await Hyunggu’s arrival to their doorstep. Adachi purses his lips, dark eyes roaming the surrounding city streets in search of the dancer’s car. Wooseok observes him with a growing resentment, for his impression toward his friend had soured since Hyunggu’s confession. 

A car pulls up into the driveway, followed by a small figure exiting the car and stepping onto the pavement. Wooseok beams at the sight, taking in the sight of his charming friend. _Hyunggu’s snow white cloak...the beautiful blossom in his hair..._

“Beautiful,” Adachi whispers, biting his lips as Hyunggu exits the automobile.

“Hm?” Wooseok grunts, eyebrows furrowed as he glances at the elder male.

“He is,” Adachi mumbles again, “Hyunggu...”

Wooseok is still silent, Adachi’s romantic mutterings ringing in his ears. It’s bewildering; Adachi’s feelings towards Hyunggu perplex him beyond belief. It seems like Adachi loves Hyunggu, but still something about that “love” makes Wooseok refuse to believe it. They are impossibly different; Hyunggu appears so soft, while something dark lingers in Adachi’s eyes: a desire to pick apart the perfect flowers that lie atop Hyunggu’s naive head.

“What, do you love him?” Wooseok mutters.

Adachi’s breath hitches, his face paling at Wooseok’s remark. _He does not reply, he can’t,_ thinks Wooseok bitterly, _he can’t reply._ The man is quick to leave his spot beside Wooseok to answer the door. 

The three end up walking around town, stopping at shops and bars along the city streets. They barely pass by an accessory store before Hyunggu insists they go inside. 

“Oh, look at this…” Hyunggu says as he pulls out a dark grey hat, embroidered with black lace and pearls. Enthused, he smiles as he pulls it over his head.

“Ah, watch out, your flower,” Wooseok says, quick to adjust the falling blossom in his hair. 

“Thank you Wooseok” Hyunggu says, adjusting the hat in the mirror and smiling in satisfaction at his reflection. The flower is quickly covered by the grey fabric, but still safely enclosed inside. 

“You look marvelous, I’ll buy it for you,” Adachi says, elated. Hyunggu blushes in gratitude as the man goes to pay the cashier.

“It doesn’t match,” Wooseok laughs, and Hyunggu does too. “It looks gothic on you.”

“It’s alright!” Hyunggu glances at Adachi across the store, beaming. “I adore it.”

Wooseok just nods, his lips pressed into a tight smile. It isn’t long until Hyunggu speaks up again.

“He’s treating me dearly today,” Hyunggu spoke merrily, a happy sigh passing through his lips. “Maybe...maybe I could...could talk to him about the—”The words fall short, again silenced by his anxiety. “Yuto’s my best friend...” He smiles sadly, “how could I?”

“If anything goes wrong, I’ll be your best friend,” Wooseok says, grinning as Hyunggu blushes with gratitude. 

“You’re so kind, Wooseok...” Hyunggu says before his face blossoms into a flowery smile again: the smile that Wooseok has grown to treasure.

_After they arrive home, the night is longer than expected. Wooseok slumbers unaware as Adachi’s and Hyunggu’s hearts finally find each other._

* * *

Something ominous lingers in the balmy morning air as Wooseok walks from his bedroom and into the hallway. With every step, his skin crawls with growing apprehension and his heart beats deeply. As he nears the living room, he spots an unfamiliar figure.

Hyunggu sits on an armchair, his back to the gleaming window. He’s draped in a silken nightgown that was black, the dark silk seeping into his ivory skin like sickly oil whelming a pond of sweet, white water. He looks so strange, as if the preceding night had altered his entire appearance. Wooseok realizes that the white blossom that had been perched atop Hyunggu’s head has vanished. Wooseok is seized with uneasiness; the flowers’ disappearance is puzzling him, making his heart race with bewilderment. Where could it have possibly gone... he nearly stutters, wondering anxiously if it had been stolen, or had been neglected. Hyunggu looks so different, so weird…

Wooseok clears his throat and Hyunggu quickly turns and looks at him.

“Hey Hyunggu, where’s your flower?”

Hyunggu suddenly smiles, hands going up to his head where he strokes plain, raven strands of hair. 

“I gave it to Yuto last night,” he says, a twinge of coyness in his voice. 

Wooseok’s breathing falters, a weak, slow gasp of pitiful air leaving past his lips. His eyes tremble for a moment, his blank stare wandering the room, lost and bewildered. A twitching dread creeps into his skin, worsening as his foolish gaze continues to fall onto a strange, unfamiliar Hyunggu. 

Hyunggu’s pink lips tremble, mouth parting in confusion as he observes Wooseok’s awful silence. Soon it’s gone; he’s pressed the pink back together. Hyunggu knows it’s ended. He will never speak to Wooseok ever again. It’s tragic and terrible and makes Wooseok want to wail in dismay. He wants it back: the flower, the gentle voice, the night where Hyunggu had thrown himself into Wooseok’s embrace, sobbing like an infant.

To Wooseok, Hyunggu seems like a shell of himself; something pure is tainted black, a gentle virtue lost and wilted away. Hyunggu was once heavenly: an untouchable angel, but his heaven—white rose gardens—had wilted with Adachi’s shadow. The clusters of milky, white petals atop the dark green foliage had rotted into black. Flower Boy has withered into nothingness, nothing but a fanciful memory of something that Wooseok once adored.

Except…Hyunggu’s hair was always black beneath the angelic blossoms. Wooseok has just never acknowledged it before. All this time, Hyunggu’s smiles to him have been small. He’s been soft-spoken and empty, his words to Wooseok always seeming to be a mere whisper. But with Yuto, the loudness is there. Whenever he gazes at Adachi, love is undeniably in Hyunggu’s eyes; a desire is entangled in his passionate words: his laughter, his whines, his shouts. He’s delighted and full: full of so much fervor and noise and richness.

It isn't long until Wooseok leaves the estate. He parts ways with Adachi and Hyunggu, shaking their hands graciously before he leaves the doorstep. Hyunggu stares, wistful, at the man as he enters the car. Wooseok doesn't look back at him; Hyunggu isn't pretty to him any longer.

It doesn't matter to the dancer. Hyunggu looks up at Adachi, who gazes warmly at him and presses a kiss onto his forehead. He feels Adachi's love, and that is what completes him. Yuto loves him, not just Flower Boy, but him, Hyunggu, and that is all that matters.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i'll provide a brief analysis of the metaphors here if you weren't able to catch them while reading -- this story is simply about virginity and purity. the flower in the story is supposed to symbolize hyunggu's innocence and when he starts to lose it as he falls for someone, wooseok blames yuto.


End file.
